


There Will Always Be This

by larryatendoftheday



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, COVID-19, Coronavirus, Established Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Established Relationship, M/M, Making Love, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Quarantine, but i kept it vague on purpose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23336446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larryatendoftheday/pseuds/larryatendoftheday
Summary: Overwhelmed by fear and uncertainty, Louis decides to turn off the news and take care of Harry.Or, some tender established-relationship love and smut in quarantine.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 99





	There Will Always Be This

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone is doing okay. I know these times are hard and weird. We have to remember what really matters and hold onto it. In this fic, Louis does just that.
> 
> Thank you to my long-suffering beta @userkant for the quick turn around on this fic. <3 I just had to get it out of my system.
> 
> [These are some songs I listened to while writing this.](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1y54lEQrVlYfj3X4fpyS0z?si=GxIbJnY3QKq58q_Uxnigng)

The newscaster is mid-word when Louis turns off the television. The silence is a relief.

Harry turns to him, brow furrowed. “Why did you—”

Louis presses his finger against Harry’s lips to shush him and leans in to press their foreheads together. They feel sweaty, sticky. It’s instinct; their eyes close, and they breathe together.

The air smells stale. Their hearts beat loudly, the patter of cornered animals. The streets are too quiet. The rooms are too small. The couch under them sags in the shape of their bodies, impressions of the stagnation they are feeling.

But their skin is warm, familiar. Their noses fit together just the same. And when they open their eyes, they meet the same gaze they have always called home.

The newscaster’s words, the press conferences and government officials, still hum in Louis’ mind, but he swallows them down. He can’t control any of that.

His hand strokes through Harry’s greasy hair, tangling in it as he cups his jaw. “Come with me.” His voice is gentle as he tugs them up off the couch. They stumble together to the bathroom.

Under the warm glow of the two bulbs, he starts to undress Harry. He pulls his flannel pants down and kisses each knee. He peels away his socks and gently massages the indentations they leave behind. He rises to softly pull Harry’s shirt up and over his head and brushes his hair out of his face.

Harry stares at him, blinks away the sheen of tears in his eyes, before lifting Louis’ shirt up and off. His fingers are warm as they trail down his arms, slip between his own to squeeze. Harry smiles small and private as he turns away to the shower while Louis shucks off the rest of his clothing.

Stepping under the shower spray together feels like a baptism. They don’t speak; they don’t need to. Harry rubs the washcloth along Louis’ back and shoulders, and Louis massages shampoo into Harry’s curls. They take turns under the water, soaping and rinsing, but they move slowly, deliberately.

Once they are clean they gravitate together, skin to skin, arms around each other. Louis rests his head on Harry’s shoulder, in the nook that is his. It’s easy to stay like that, encapsulated in steam and condensation, warm and safe. They only separate when the water turns cold.

They brush their teeth at the sink, eyes meeting in the mirror. Louis smiles because the towel on Harry’s head is tipping precariously. He kisses his cheek, leaving behind a smear of toothpaste foam. Harry just laughs and wipes it away.

In their bedroom, they start to pull on clean clothing, but then, Louis catches Harry’s eye… and they stop. “Let’s change the bed,” Harry suggests instead. So they do. They each take a corner, each take a pillow, and in a minute, it’s done. And the bed is so inviting in the afternoon sun that Louis just slides under the covers, fresh and wonderful against his bare skin. Harry pauses for only a moment before he joins him.

Louis turns toward him like he always does. Their bodies fit together perfectly, legs tangled, arms sure. His eyes catch on the way Harry is biting his lip, and Louis kisses him so he can’t anymore.

Their mouths know this dance, the rhythm of give and take. So they kiss while hands wander across skin. Louis traces the ripples of Harry’s back, holds the curve of his waist. He runs a hand up his chest, feels each bone and heartbeat beneath the skin.

Harry pulls back suddenly, throat bobbing as he swallows. “I’m scared, Lou.”

And Louis knows Harry is scared. He is scared, too. Everyone with any bit of sanity is scared. But he still wants to protect him.

“Baby,” Louis whispers. “Darling, it’s going to be okay.” It’s not something he knows, but he has to believe it. He holds Harry’s face in his hands and kisses him, trying to make him feel how much he loves him, how far he would go to take care of him. He kisses along his collar bone, in the soft flesh on the inside of his elbow, and at his wrist. He presses his promise against his skin with his lips.

Harry’s hand cradles Louis’ head as he mouths at his chest, kissing his sternum, his belly button, his hips. He looks up to meet Harry’s gaze as he moves down again. No-one else could, but Louis sees the agreement in his eyes.

He nuzzles into the hair at Harry’s groin, and even freshly washed it smells comfortingly familiar. Harry’s cock is soft against his pale thigh, and Louis rubs his face against it, kisses the soft skin it rests on. He could stay there all day, resting right where Harry smells most like himself, and some other day he will, but today he has too much love to put into words.

He kisses the shaft of Harry’s cock languidly, swirling his tongue on it. When he reaches the tip, he glances up to see Harry watching and holds his gaze as he darts his tongue against the slit teasingly. Harry’s intake of breath is beautiful. He kisses the tip with his whole mouth, just once, before ducking down to return his attention to the shaft.

Touching Harry likes this feels like a gift every time. He cherishes slipping Harry into his mouth, caressing him in the most intimate way. And he’s lost in it, now, as Harry’s hands card through his hair, fingertips swirling pleasantly against his scalp.

It takes a long time for Harry to get hard, but Louis doesn’t mind. Time doesn’t exist when Louis is between these thighs. He is comfortable, content, as slowly but surely, Harry’s cock come to life beneath his lips.

But then Harry’s hips jerk ever so slightly beneath him, startling him out of his meditative mindset. When he looks up, he sees that Harry’s head is tossed back on the pillows, neck arched, and he’s biting his lip again, but not for the same reason. 

Louis speeds up, flicking his tongue just under the head and watches the shiver that flows through Harry. He sucks at the head, swallows it down into his throat. He could drag this out, but he doesn’t know if he wants to. He sneaks a hand down to cup Harry’s balls, rolls them gently, and the softest, most plaintive moan slips from Harry’s lips.

At that, Louis changes his plan. He doesn’t always give balls the attention they deserve, but freshly washed and apparently sensitive, he can’t refuse. He has one in his mouth before Harry knows what’s happening, and Louis feels his thighs spasm. That’s a sure sign that Harry is close, so he licks his hand and starts pumping his cock while he continues lavishing attention on his balls, humming around them gently. He listens for it, that tiny gasp that Harry makes just as he hits his climax, and when he hears it, he steadies himself. Harry’s thighs contract around him, but he doesn’t stop until they fall away. Then he just kisses them instead.

When he pulls himself up the bed, Harry is dewy with sweat, eyes closed, chest rising and falling with each breath. Louis loves him every way, but he loves him like this so much. He presses their lips together, kisses Harry’s eyebrow, noses at the soft skin at his temple. Harry’s eyelashes flutter open enough for him to meet Louis’ eyes. It’s the same gaze he’s always called home. He wraps his arms around him and pulls Harry flush against his chest. His nose is buried in tickly curls, just like it should be. His leg fits between Harry’s just like it always does. Harry wraps his hand around Louis’ and holds it against his chest. They breathe together.

It’s easy to slip into sleep like that. When they wake, the sun will be setting outside, casting their room in a rosy glow. Harry will tug him to the window and throw it open. They will breathe in crisp spring air in each other’s arms, knowing that whatever comes… there will always be this.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please leave a comment and kudos. I really appreciate it. 🥰
> 
> You can also share the[ fic post on Tumblr](https://larryatendoftheday.tumblr.com/post/613702585790119936/there-will-always-be-this-by-larryatendoftheday). 
> 
> Stay well and stay strong!


End file.
